


“Cummunion”

by A Ghoulish Concubine (VenusBrutalis)



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 03:45:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13068420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenusBrutalis/pseuds/A%20Ghoulish%20Concubine
Summary: When Sister Connie Lingus wrote Ghouls Gone Wild, an “erotic epos” that came to her through visions and dreams, it appears she wasn’t aware of how exactly Papa Emeritus and his Nameless Ghouls would enter our mortal world. Hence these stories are about the characters, and not what we perceive them to be, i.e. a band.Her visions were seen through the eyes of several willing women; for every Ghoul, a different one.So please enjoy, if you can, the tales of Papa Emeritus and the Nameless Ghouls, delivering diabolical sermons, and lots and lots of cock.And tongue. Of course.





	“Cummunion”

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2013.
> 
> This is a stand-alone story, but still a part of the mythos.

We were many in numbers, on this enchanted evening. The mass that took place in the chapel was one of the most foul; desperate souls, nearly fighting to receive the liquid that rumored to consist of the blood of a goat and the semen of our Papa Emeritus. If he had offered his flesh, they would have devoured him alive, in the belief that his body would grant them divinity. Their greed knew no limits, and they drank the liquid offered to them, like the milk from a mother’s supple breast. An eerie stillness followed, as they fall to the floor, while the third ingredient began to work its magic. I waited, as the devotees began to utter unknown words, and bizarre guttural sounds. Sounds became names, repeated over and over again. Belial, Behemoth, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Satanas, Lucifer.

Their bodies were convulsing, as the crescendo echoed through the chapel, desperately attempting to reach the heavenly father that they had long deserted, now replaced with darkness. Papa Emeritus raised his hand, causing an abrupt end to the cacophony. They crawled towards him, like a herd to the shepherd, yearning for his guidance and comfort, for him to lead the way, as they were unable to walk the path of life as individuals. He shook his head, and sighed, like a disappointed father. The result was hysteria, as they attempted to prove their devotion in the strangest of ways; clothes were torn off, hair pulled, tongues chewed, and eyes pressed into further into the sockets. Their flesh merged and changed colour, as they attacked each other like rabid animals, desperate for the divine approval. None was granted, and in the end, they had all perished. 

Papa Emeritus lifted his gaze and beheld us all, the white ocean of followers. The events that had taken place before me, gruesome as they were, were not uncommon on these unholy nights. Perhaps it was the sickly sweet haze that filled the chapel that numbed our senses, and allowed us to endure such sights without being notably affected by them. The air was filled with anticipation as his eyes wandered across the congregation. My light robe suddenly felt heavy, and I shifted. And with that subtle movement, he had found me. His gloved hand beckoned me to come forward, to join him. I lowered my eyes, and stared back him. The people in front of me stepped aside, clearing the path for me. Now the path was visible, for me to walk alone. 

I lifted my robe as I stepped over the corpses, their flesh still warm. I looked down at one of them, and saw a twisted grin on its face. It made me smile. Papa Emeritus offered his hand, and led me to the altar. He kissed my cheeks while holding my hands, a gesture that was both confusing and arousing. I saw a carafe of wine upon the altar, and watched as Papa Emeritus took a sip of the red fluid, without taking his eyes off me. He didn’t swallow it; instead he took my face between his hands and placed his mouth against mine. Carefully I opened my mouth, and drank the wine that flowed from his. I swallowed the best I could; the sweet nectar was unlike anything else I had tasted. When I was finished, he licked the last drops from my lips. 

Papa Emeritus lifted me graciously upon the altar, for me to sit on. He held the carafe in his hand and began to pour the wine on me, staining my white robe scarlet. The fabric became heavy, and clutched to the curves of my body. I became the Blessed Sacrament as Papa Emeritus licked the wine clean off my neck. My nipples hardened underneath the soaked cloth as he began to suck the wine from it, his tongue twirling around the sensitive peak. I held on to the silk that covered the altar as his hands fondled my robe, pulling it above my knees. He stopped, and made a gesture with his hand, and new carafe of wine was placed on the altar. My robe was pulled further up, and above my head, leaving me naked with my sensual anatomy revealed for all to see. Once again wine was poured, leaving crimson trails from head to toe. Papa Emeritus got down on his knees, and spread my legs, and I shivered as he drenched my cunt in wine. 

The five ghouls now stood beside us, and watched as Papa Emeritus licked my inner thighs, not letting a single drop go to waste. I tilted my head back as his tongue found the soft folds that hid the diabolical origin of pleasure. The chapel still had its old crucifix, and Christ stared down on me; nailed to the cross, forced to watch the blasphemous display that was now unfolding. The ghouls moved in closer now, as Papa Emeritus’ lips closed around my clitoris, his tongue pressing relentlessly against the bundle of nerves. He stopped, only to address the eager ghouls. “Taste her, taste her body and blood!” 

My body was now being consumed by six eager mouths; two at my feet, one between my legs, two at my chest, and one at my mouth. I squirmed and moaned, enduring this exquisite pleasure. The crowd was vibrating with lust, their faint moans and short breaths creating the most divine of sounds. Papa Emeritus’ lips were skilled, beyond that of any man, and his tongue easily discovered the ways in which to make me ache with arousal. The ghouls were eager, their tongues wet and firm. I felt the familiar feeling emerging from within my core, seeking the dark place between my legs, announcing its impending arrival. I screamed against the ghoul’s wet lips, my body trembling in the embrace of them all, as the orgasm transplanted itself from core to every cell in my body, like a devastating epiphany. 

I was not allowed to come to my sense before they lifted me off the altar, and held me against the rotten crucifix. Papa Emeritus pulled my head back and looked me in the eyes, his hand around his throbbing cock. The ghouls followed suit, and they all stared at me while their hands moved effortlessly up and down their erected members. The masses of followers gave in around us, and while I could not see them, I could hear the perverse delights that were unfolding. They moved closer and closer to me, and I could feel their cocks against my body, and I was slowly forced down on my knees. My arms were held, and in my kneeled position I mimicked that of Christ above me. They all came at once, soaking me in their sacred semen, leaving me drenched at the left side of Christ. 

I had received my communion.


End file.
